


Transmutation

by falsepremise



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: First Time, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, M/M, One Shot, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-06-09 21:55:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19484806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/falsepremise/pseuds/falsepremise
Summary: After the almost-Amargeddon the love between Aziraphale and Crowley is clear to them both. But does their love include a physical element?





	Transmutation

The relationship between Crowley and Aziraphale—the romance as it were—did not in any clear sense have a beginning. Rather, there was always a glimmer of it between them and slowly, very slowly that glimmer grew. Their old relationship—natural enemies, bargainers, friends, best friends—transmuted gradually over time into this. Yet, the seeds of all of it were present from the beginning. It was in some fundamental way, and Crowley hated to admit it, ineffable. 

The transmutation was a slow process. It had only taken 6,000 years. And they still weren’t quite fully there, were they? Or perhaps this was all they could be.

There was romance, certainly. There was love and it was unquestionably romantic love. Ever since the almost-Amargeddon the romance was clear and unambiguous. 

Crowley knew Aziraphale loved him. And Aziraphale knew that Crowley knew and he knew that Crowley loved him in return. It was all so clear and obvious now without either of them needing to say anything. Yet, they had said it anyway. Both of them had actually spoken the words out loud: I love you.

There was physical affection. Easy, natural affection. Crowley found himself reaching for Aziraphale’s exquisitely manicured hand without conscious thought. Aziraphale seemed to melt into Crowley’s arms when they were alone, head on Crowley’s shoulder. There were even kisses. Soft, gentle pecks on forehead, cheeks and lips, warm and full of love. 

Yet it was all quite chaste. There was nothing sexual about what they did. Not that Crowley felt chaste. Crowley certainly had some very unchaste feelings towards Aziraphale. But did Aziraphale feel the same way? Was he even capable of lust? 

Angels don’t experience lust. But then, as a general rule, neither do demons. And, of course, even if Aziraphale reciprocated Crowley’s desires he had always moved at a slower gentler pace. The last thing Crowley wanted to hear was that he was, once again, moving too fast for his angel. 

And so, there was nothing for Crowley to do but to wait. To wait, carefully masking and suppressing his desires, until he had some sign from Aziraphale that they may be reciprocated and welcomed. 

It was the only thing Crowley could do. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t difficult. It was hard to mask the warm expansion of desire he inevitably felt with Aziraphale in his arms. Hard too, to resist the urge to kiss his angel with the full ferocity of his passion when Aziraphale teased him with light pecks.

How does a demon explain to his angel that he loves his angel so much that he wants to tear him apart and feast on him? To bury himself in him? To suck him dry and hear him beg? But, all in a good way, my dear, nothing to worry about. Well, not good exactly. But not bad either. Just, in a wanton kind of way. 

Crowley should have known it couldn’t possibly last. He couldn’t mask such desires for long. Not when they spent so much time in each other’s company as they did now. Eventually, he slipped.

Was there something particularly enticing about Aziraphale on that day? No. He was always exactly that enticing. Was there something particularly tempting in what he did? No. Although an angel, Aziraphale was, for Crowley, the perfect temptation. Always had been. Perhaps, it was simply all Crowley could bear, like a dam wall groaning and breaking after so much rain. 

They were talking in the back room of the bookshop. Aziraphale ended up in Crowley’s arms as he usually did now whenever they were alone. Crowley downed the rest of his wine and shifted position slightly so that the inevitable physical effects of Aziraphale’s affection would not be detected. But Aziraphale, the bastard, kept running his hand gently across Crowley’s chest. It was… maddening. Crowley closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on their conversation. And then Aziraphale, damn him, he started to run his hands over Crowley’s nipples, his nipples, still chattering away. 

And Crowley, heaven help him, slipped. 

Crowley made a noise that started as a low groan and ended as a hiss. A wanton noise. A lustful noise. Damn. Bit of a giveaway that. 

Crowley opened his eyes slowly to find Aziraphale looking directly at him, curious and unreadable, his nose crinkled in just that spot where it crinkles when he is thinking. 

Crowley swallowed heavily.

“I’m sssorry, angel,” Crowley said, “it is not necessary if you don’t, you know, and anyway even if you did we’ll move at your pace.” 

Aziraphale frowned in thought, “why do you think I don’t?”

Crowley shrugged, “angels as a general rule, don’t.”

“Neither do demons,” Aziraphale replied with a smile and a twinkle in his eye.

“True, but we at least are a little more familiar with the general subject,” Crowley said.

“Perhaps,” Aziraphale conceded. He paused a moment in thought. “Crowley, angels do not typically eat. Not even in corporal form. Yet, I’ve learned to enjoy that particular pleasure of the flesh well enough,” Aziraphale smiled, “I enjoy it quite a bit in fact. Is it so outlandish that I may have also explored another?” 

Crowley sat up fast, “explored? What with humans?”

“No, Crowley!” Aziraphale laughed, “With humans! Of course not!”

Crowley was instantly relieved, and quickly intrigued, “then you mean, by yourself?”

Aziraphale flushed and looked away, “Well...” although he himself had steered the conversation to this he was now quite mortified to be discussing it. 

“You wank, angel?” Crowley asked, eyes wide.

“Crowley!” Aziraphale reprimanded eyes darting about, “such a crude expression.”

“Masturbate then,” Crowley continued with a wide smile. He was enjoying this now. 

Aziraphale blushed an even deeper scarlet, looking down nervously. Crowley decided that was a clear yes.

“So what do you think about exactly then, angel? When you masturbate?” Crowley continued in his teasing, leaning his head down to try to catch Aziraphale’s gaze again. 

Aziraphale fiddled with his bow tie, attempting to regain his dignity, “you know perfectly well who I think about.”

And just like that Crowley did. 

“I think about you too,” Crowley smiled, “only you. It has always been you.”

Crowley leaned forward and kissed Aziraphale on the lips, allowing himself to put just a bit of heat into it. Gingerly, his tongue slipped inside. Aziraphale reciprocated, deepening the kiss with a soft moan. 

When Crowley pulled away Aziraphale was wearing a look of hunger and pleasure that Crowley instantly recognised: he was wearing the very expression he wore after the first mouthful of a particularly favoured food. Who’d have thought? Crowley said to himself, it seems I am a crepe. A Parisian crepe. Crowley smiled at the idea. He carefully stroked his angel’s hair.

“Still,” Crowley said, “we shall move at your pace, angel. I won’t hurry you.”

“I rather think,” Aziraphale blushed, “that after 6000 years I’d rather move at your pace.”

“Very well, angel,” Crowley replied with a grin, “you might want to strap yourself in.”

Aziraphale laughed, “Indeed.”

Crowley leaned forward and captured Aziraphale’s mouth in a passionate kiss. In spite of himself, he took his time, holding Aziraphale tightly and kissing him deeply but no more. He kissed and kissed until he burnt for his angel, until he felt himself a towering inferno of need. 

“Crowley,” Aziraphale moaned breathlessly, “please…”

“Please what, angel?” Crowley grinned.

“Just please…” Aziraphale panted.

Crowley kissed a trail down Aziraphale’s neck and carefully, worshipfully, undid his bow tie and slid off his jacket. He undid his vest and then his shirt button by careful button, kissing each new piece of soft flesh as it was revealed and throwing the garments onto the ground were they pooled,  
a little sea of white amongst the books. 

Aziraphale was shaking slightly, biting his lower lip. 

Crowley undid Aziraphale’s pants button and zipper. 

“Crowley…” Aziraphale whispered and Crowley looked back at his angel, and saw him flush with desire and trembling with vulnerability. 

“Trust me,” Crowley whispered, “I love you, Aziraphale.”

Aziraphale nodded. Crowley slipped his angel’s pants down and helped him to carefully step out of them. 

Starting at his feet, Crowley carefully explored upwards with his mouth and hands. 

Aziraphale moaned and panted as Crowley explored the soft milky white flesh of his thighs.

Crowley kissed Aziraphale’s member through his underwear, his mouth wetting the material. Aziraphale bucked forward and groaned loudly.

Crowley looked up to see Aziraphale’s hungry expression. Yes, definitely a Parisian crepe.

Crowley slipped Aziraphale’s underwear off revealing his erection. He kissed the head gently and took him fully into his mouth. Oh, the sweet taste of him! 

Aziraphale bucked hard into his mouth and grabbed fistfuls of Crowley’s hair as Crowley caressed him eagerly with his tongue. 

Aziraphale continued to buck and pant, quickly gathering speed, “Crowley, I can’t…”

Crowley instantly understood. He released Aziraphale from his mouth with a wet pop and stood to kiss his angel on the mouth.

Aziraphale kissed him ferociously. 

“Get your clothes off, now,” Aziraphale commanded, and Crowley saw a flicker of the angel who once wielded a flaming sword. 

Obediently, Crowley began to disrobe. Evidently it was not fast enough, as Aziraphale began to assist, his fingers moving quickly. Crowley soon stood naked, Aziraphale’s gaze travelling hungrily over his body.

Aziraphale knelt before him licking his lips and Crowley went weak at the knees at the sight. And then Aziraphale took Crowley into his mouth and oh! Crowley’s knees buckled. Aziraphale held him steady while he continued to suck hard on his cock. Crowley hissed loudly. 

“Fuck! Oh fuck me please, angel,” Crowley moaned.

Aziraphale hummed in delight, well with perhaps a dash of disapproval at the language, as he continued to pleasure Crowley, taking his cock deep into his mouth down to the root, again and again, mouth-fucking him.

“Oh fuck, oh God,” Crowley continued his blabbering, “oh lord, oh fuck, Aziraphale…. I can’t… ssstop… I’ll…”

Aziraphale slipped Crowley’s cock out of his mouth giving the head a little lick—Crowley shivered—before letting it go. The erection bobbed wetly in front of him.

“What now, my dear?” Aziraphale asked with feigned nonchalance.

“Together,” Crowley answered with a growl, “We do everything together and we are doing this too.”

Aziraphale smiled warmly. 

Crowley looked around the room as he helped Azairaphale to stand. He led him quickly to an old couch, “this’ll do,” he pushed Aziraphale onto the couch and lay on top, lining themselves up, erection to erection. 

He began to thrust—so damn good—and Aziraphale did too. They soon found their rhythm. Crowley kissed Aziraphale hard, his tongue finding entrance. He moaned and hissed into his angel’s mouth. Aziraphale panted hard as he kissed him back with a ferocious hunger. Soon—too soon, really, Crowley wanted this to last for eternity, he could do an eternity of this— Aziraphale began to lose his rhythm. He sighed, “Oh Crowley” and eyes fluttering, he climaxed. The sight of it was enough to push Crowley himself over the edge.

He collapsed, panting, onto Aziraphale, “Love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Aziraphale replied, his voice warm and kind. 

Crowley thought he’d never experienced a more perfect moment, just lying naked on top of his angel. Maybe this would be the moment to live for all eternity. 

“Um...” Aziraphale said, “There’s quite a bit of sticky…”

“It’s gone,” Crowley answered.

“Thank-you,” Aziraphale replied, trailing his fingers up and down Crowley’s back.

“You could have done that yourself, of course,” Crowley teased.

“My side are a little more fastidious about unnecessary miracles as you know,” Aziraphale said with a little sniff.

“Your side are a little more fastidious about what we just did,” Crowley replied.

"Not at all,” Aziraphale said, “the thinking has always been that within the bounds of matrimony lust is perfectly acceptable even beneficial.”

Crowley snorted, “We aren’t married, dear.”

“Six thousand years, Crowley,” Aziraphale said, “that kind of commitment can’t be dismissed on a mere technicality.”

“Fair point,” Crowley replied with a kiss, “my husband.”

Aziraphale smiled, satisfied. 

Crowley cuddled into him, warm and content and just a bit sleepy. As the gentle pull towards sleep began to grow he pondered the fact that their transmutation was complete. Or rather they finally were what they had already been all along. Even though they’d always been it anyway. Or something. It was, though he hated to admit it, just a bit ineffable. He suspected that love always was.


End file.
